


Heartstrings

by allthehearteyes, Heather_Night



Series: Karma [2]
Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Boyfriends, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Conditions, Past Drug Use, Recovery, impact of trauma, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 16:50:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17729084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthehearteyes/pseuds/allthehearteyes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heather_Night/pseuds/Heather_Night
Summary: Deran and Adrian adjust to life after Adrian's heart attack.This is a follow up to Heather_Night's Karma for the Heart.





	Heartstrings

**Author's Note:**

> So Heather_Night and I tried this thing. We hope it works and you all enjoy it. ❤️
> 
> Many thanks to @caitlesshea for helping us smooth out the rough edges!
> 
> ~~find us on Tumblr (same usernames)~~

Deran heard Adrian’s gusty sigh from across the room. It was followed by an angry rant. “God damn this packaging! How the hell are you supposed to get into this without cutting yourself to ribbons?”

He wanted to snicker—he’d said similar things in the past and Adrian usually rolled his eyes at him or called him grumpy—but there was an edge to Adrian’s tone that caught Deran’s attention. He looked over and saw Adrian wrestling with the plastic packaging on the new bamboo wax comb he’d given him. “Do you need the utility knife?”

“No, I don’t need the utility knife! It’s never where it’s supposed to be anyway. By the time I hunt it down…ouch! Fucking thing bit me.” Something sailed through the air and just missed Deran’s shoulder as it thudded dully against the wall.

Deran realized there was nothing funny about this. The level of rage apparent in Adrian’s voice was out of proportion to the situation. Sure, getting into plastic packaging was frustrating but Adrian would typically be the first to point out it was a minor inconvenience.

Approaching with caution, Deran held his hand out. “Let me see the damage.”

Scowling a bit, Adrian retorted, “No man, it’s fine. No big deal. Just leave it.”

Deran instisted,”Come on, let me look. It’s easier for me to clean it for you anyway.”

Adrian’s lower lip stuck out in a pout. In someone else Deran would’ve wanted to wipe the look from their face but not Adrian; it was fucking adorable. Not that he’d say that as he liked his testicles right where they were, thank you.

His boyfriend begrudgingly uncurled his clenched fist and Deran inspected his hand. The plastic had left a jagged rip across the meaty flesh of his left palm but it was shallow. “Let’s wash it out good and put a band-aid on it. Unless you just want me to kiss it better?” Deran waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“You can kiss my a—”

“Maybe later, now come on.” Deran pulled him to his feet before he could start another rant. He guided Adrian into the bathroom and made him sit on the closed toilet seat while he dug around for the peroxide and box of band-aids.

Adrian was shockingly compliant as he let Deran wash the wound out. “Thanks.” His voice was soft and small, a huge contradiction from his tirade of a few minutes ago. Deran noticed, Adrian was sort of shaking his head a little and blinking rapidly, like he was holding back tears? What was going on with him lately?

Deran planted a soft kiss next to the band-aid. “Someone’s got to take care of you.” He wished he felt more comfortable in teasing Adrian more but his mood lately had been unpredictable.

Deran thought about yesterday, how Adrian had yelled at the cashier in Target when she had to price check a mismarked item, or the time last week, when he was customizing a surfboard and kicked a hole in the fiberglass hull after making a minor mistake. There were countless other times too, Adrian barking orders at that waitress for not refilling his water fast enough or always taking the longer route home so he didn’t have to drive past the hospital.

Any time Deran mentioned any of it to Adrian he just shrugged it off or they started arguing. Adrian would accuse Deran of needing to get a life and insist he stop “mothering” him. Often, once the rage passed, Adrian would start crying, apologize, and they would both just sort of pretend nothing happened. Even earlier this morning, when Adrian tried to make french toast and caught the pan on fire. Adrian had completely shut down, sitting on the floor, his head against his knees, and basically unresponsive as Deran yelled at him to help. Deran had put the fire out and Adrian hadn’t really moved at all. Once Deran realized Adrian wasn’t being an ass on purpose, he’d changed his tone. Eventually, Adrian looked up, eyes wet, and mumbled an apology. They hugged and just went about their day. It was really confusing to Deran, but he knew giving up on him, them, wasn’t an option, not _ever_.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Adrian’s brow furrowed as his uninjured hand fisted in his own hair. He let out a heavy sigh. Watching Adrian struggle pulled at Deran’s heartstrings. It didn’t sound like he was fishing for a compliment; he sounded genuinely puzzled.

He wanted to break the suddenly heavy mood. Emotions were scary territory for Deran and he didn’t like wading into them unless he was backed into a corner. He put the box of band-aids away beneath the sink, his mind latching on to taking care of the guy he loved. “You know I like playing doctor.”

“Yeah, sorry. Me, too.” Adrian’s shoulders rounded and he wrapped his arms around his middle.

_Fuck._

Sex had turned into a point of contention for them. Deran was not happy with having to restrict their sex life—Adrian couldn’t do anything that put a strain on his heart which meant they had to be pretty vanilla—but he’d deal with it since it meant he still had an Adrian to sex up.

Adrian wasn’t taking the restrictions in stride at all. It had eroded Adrian’s self-esteem and Deran wasn’t sure what he could do support him. He kept trying to reassure Adrian that he was everything Deran wanted, his every fantasy, and beyond gorgeous. If he was being honest, Deran only had eyes for Adrian, and really only ever did. It wasn’t fair but up until lately Adrian had done all of the heavy hitting when it came to being supportive but Deran could do this. Wanted to do this.

Needed to do this.

“Babe, I would want to be with you even if we couldn’t have sex at all. Fortunately, that’s not the case. And you know scars are sexy, right?” He held out a hand until Adrian’s uninjured hand grasped his and drew his boyfriend to his feet. “Come on, let’s stop in the bedroom and I’ll show you.”

Adrian’s dark blue eyes sparked with interest and he nodded.

Deran could do this. He just had to be patient.

-0-

Adrian leaned on his elbow and watched Deran sleep. The sex hadn’t been very satisfying for either of them but he appreciated the gesture.

Deran had turned out to be the best kind of boyfriend—patient, supportive, caring—which Adrian would never have guessed when he first thought of them in a relationship.

At first it was the two s’s--surfing and sex--that formed the strong bond between them. Adrian was comfortable sharing those activities with his friend. Hell, he’d been Deran’s closest non-Cody confidante for years and he sometimes felt more like Deran’s therapist than friend but the surfing and sex helped balance everything out.

He should get up and do something but Deran was so fucking cute lying on his side, facing Adrian, with his hands tucked beneath his cheek. There was a crease between his eyebrows and Adrian wanted to smooth the frown away but he didn’t want to wake up Deran; his boyfriend wasn’t getting enough rest according to the smudges beneath his eyes. Deran was still the most beautiful guy Adrian had ever been with but he couldn’t fathom why he was sticking around. Adrian couldn’t get his act together--couldn’t surf, couldn’t fuck, couldn’t keep his cool, couldn’t do anything really--so what exactly did he have to offer right now?

The specter of Clark Lincoln (call me _Linc_ ) tormented Adrian but Deran had said he didn’t even like the guy. He wondered if Deran would say the same today now that he was faced with the reality of living with a heart crippled ex-surfer suffering mood swings.

The damned mood swings.

Adrian couldn’t figure out why his mood swings were so extreme. One minute he was almost homicidal and the next he wanted to bury his head beneath the pillow and never come out. He hadn’t been this bad since he was a pre-teen and hormones had started swimming through his body, making it hard to concentrate. Actually, this was worse; when he’d been young everyone had ignored him but now his choices and behavior affected Deran and they were both miserable. Adrian often thought: _Why does he even put up with me? I’m broken. He can do so much better._

Deran twitched in his sleep, one of those full body jerks that Adrian associated with dreaming of falling. His face scrunched up and he gave a mournful whimper but it originated in the back of his throat and was so sad it made Adrian’s heart clench.

When he twitched and groaned again, Adrian carded his fingers through his soft blond hair. Whatever he was dreaming about must be intense because his hairline had already turned damp and the sun glinting off the dresser highlighted the sheen of sweat on his brow.

Instead of calming Deran, he bolted upright, twisting and looking around. “Adrian!”

“Hey, hey, I’m right here.” Adrian squeezed Deran’s shoulder. He felt some of the tension leak away from Deran’s tight muscles.

“It was just a dream.” Deran panted, a hand clasped to this chest.

Adrian’s shoulder squeeze turned into light strokes from shoulder to forearm and back up again. “What was just a dream?”

“Huh?” Deran’s light blue eyes were wide and his pupils large. Adrian would like to blame it on the room being dark but with the sunlight on that side of the house, the room was pretty bright despite the blinds being drawn.

Keeping up the petting, Adrian made eye contact with Deran. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m fine.” Deran’s face closed off and Adrian withdrew his touch; there was some places he wasn’t allowed to follow his boyfriend. He tried to respect Deran’s need for distance in some aspects of his life but he couldn’t lie—it hurt.

He was used to being Deran’s go-to person and now he was sidelined. He looked down at the mostly healed wound on his chest…in more ways than one.

Adrian slid out of bed, cautiously standing up, waiting to see if he’d have to contend with dizziness. The fucking beta blocker he was on for his heart problem caused all sorts of interesting side effects on top of the dizziness like weakness, fatigue, cold extremities and a dry mouth. One of these days he was just going to say _fuck it_ and stop taking them because really, what was the point? Everyone died eventually and at least it would be a happy death, surfing and fucking...he shook away that weird thought.

For now, he pulled on a pair of swim trunks and headed for the swimming pool. It was a low impact exercise, one of the few he’d been cleared for, and he could pretend he was paddling out on his board.

Maybe the exercise would chase away whatever the hell was wrong with him.

He couldn’t really blame Deran for not opening up to him; Adrian didn’t want to be around himself much either at the moment.

-0-

Over the next several weeks Adrian really seemed to be in a mood. At every turn he sniped at Deran, and would generally just be a dick. Deran felt like he couldn’t get his feet under him, like he couldn’t do anything right. There’d been several blowups and breakdowns between them. Yelling and name calling, tears and apologies. So many ups and downs, and Deran felt completely lost at sea...for the first time in his life...when it came to Adrian.

In a bid to reduce daily stressors, Deran had tried to make their home more orderly, making necessary items easier to find and use. He’d put up hooks for keys in the entryway, a shoe cubby by the front door, and gotten a pill organizer for all of Adrian’s meds. All the stuff in the kitchen, bathroom and even the drawers in their bedroom had been neatly organized. A place for everything and everything in its place. It seemed like the only thing Deran could actually do to help, but Adrian seemed oddly irritated by all of the tidy conveniences.

While refolding the towels in their bathroom, Deran heard a smashing sound in the kitchen. _Oh fuck! He’s hurt!_ Heart racing, he ran in and saw Adrian just standing there, panting and shaking. His eyes glazed over and sweat sheening his face. Deran immediately searched Adrian for injuries, but found none. He saw what appeared to be a broken coffee pot and a shattered ceramic cup near Adrian’s bare feet.

“Babe, don’t move, ok? I’m going to go get us shoes and then I’ll clean this up.”

Adrian was unresponsive, but Deran hoped his words had sunk in enough to hold him still. He quickly shoved his own feet in flip flops and grabbed a pair for Adrian. He knelt down and carefully put each of Adrian’s feet in a shoe, gently wiping his skin in case any small shards had stuck to him. He stood up and held Adrian’s face. His beautiful deep blue eyes seemed to look right through him. Deran moved into his space, trying to catch his focus.

As calmly as possible, Deran encouraged, “Okay babe, I just want you to step back and go sit on the couch. I’ve got the rest.”

Adrian didn’t move so Deran cautiously guided him backward, mindful of the broken pieces at their feet. Deran murmured, “You’re doing great, love. Exactly what you need to do. Almost there.” He gently helped Adrian onto the couch in the living room. Adrian’s skin was covered in goosebumps so Deran grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it across his shoulders. Deran knew he should be more freaked out, but this had happened a couple of times before, Adrian kind of frozen and unable to respond (either to yelling or quiet words). He situated Adrian on the cushions as comfortably as possible and set a bottle of water nearby.

Deran returned to the kitchen and looked at the mess. There was coffee and broken glass all over the floor. He looked at the island and saw a white, powdery substance on the surface of the counter. Deran clenched his fists and let loose a litany of vile curses. _Fucking idiot!!!!_ He should have paid more attention when using the sweetener for his coffee this morning. He knew it upset Adrian to see substances that reminded him of cocaine, of the choices that almost took his life. Deran’s eyes watered as he began cleaning up the disaster he’d caused. That he didn’t even take into account the fact that Adrian wasn’t supposed to have much caffeine, and his boyfriend was a coffee junkie, so Deran tried not to leave evidence of his consumption around the house.

He’d been trying so hard to make things better for Adrian, and now he’d been careless in making this mistake. _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_

Every so often Deran peeked in on Adrian, and assured, “It’s all good….no big deal...been meaning to scrub these floors anyway.” His voice sounded strained and awkward, even to himself, but if he didn’t keep up this pretense he’d probably just have a full on meltdown. Adrian didn’t respond to any of Deran’s words, but Deran maintained his chipper tone and intense focus on cleaning.

Deran wiped at his eyes a few times as he got the floor, the counter and the the dishes cleaned and dried. By the time he made it back into the living room Adrian has dozed off, sort of leaning on the corner of the couch. Deran crouched down and ghosted his fingertips across Adrian’s freckled cheekbone. He whispered, “I’m so sorry, babe. I’ll do better,” before heading off to clean the shower he bleached three days ago.

-0-

Adrian was at a loss. Despite his best intentions he kept lashing out at whatever was in his vicinity which tended to be Deran.

The one person he didn’t want to drive away.

His phone rang and he picked it up, surprised Craig was calling him.

_What if something had happened to Deran?_

He’d left the house twenty minutes earlier which meant he couldn’t have gotten into trouble with his family already. But what if he’d been in an accident?

Adrian answered on the third ring, sinking onto the couch, hand over his chest. “Hello?”

“Yo, Adrian! We’re having a party at the house and I wanna know why you didn’t come with him. He’s all moody and no fun to be around when you’re not here.” Craig belched loudly in his ear.

Adrian didn’t know whether to be touched that Deran’s brother wanted him around or pissed off that Deran hadn’t invited him to go with him to the party.

Neither won out as his heart set up a too fast tempo and the rhythm seemed a little funky.

“Adrian? You there?” Craig was obnoxiously loud and Adrian wanted to answer him if only to shut him up but he was too busy trying not to freak out.

Was something wrong? Did he need to call for help?

Craig was still on the line, his voice softer, talking to someone else. “I don’t know. He said hello and then dead air.”

“Adrian? Say something, you’re freaking me the fuck out.” Deran was now on the line.

A burst of adrenaline surged through his body and it did jack-all for his heart but it galvanized his speech. “I’m here. Having fun?”

His right hand was clenched into a fist and he lightly rubbed it up and down his chest. Over his heart. Soothing it.

Deran snorted. “No. It’s not the same without--”

“Hey, I’m gonna let you go. I’m in the middle of something here. See ya later.” Adrian disconnected before things could escalate into a fight.

Or tears.

There had been way too much of that bullshit lately.

He needed to do something to get his mind off of everything. Pot was his usual go-to when he needed to relax but he’d been told in no uncertain terms to stay the fuck away from illegal drugs.

The question was did he care? He’d been doing almost everything by the book and he wasn’t noticeably better.

“Fuck it.” Adrian heaved himself to his feet and stalked over to the entryway where he knew he’d find his flip-flops and keys. Deran had been on quite the kick lately with organizing and it was driving Adrian fucking crazy.

Or maybe Adrian was already crazy. He shook his head.

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses from the bowl on the bench inside of the door--another one of Deran’s little organization projects--Adrian sailed out the door.

He was going to that little coffee shop on the strand and he was going to fucking caffeinate the hell out of what was left of the afternoon.

He’d been listening to the doctors but maybe it was time to stop and start living his life again.

-0-

They were at the beach, sun shining, swells perfect, and both miserable. They’d just argued about whether the water was calm enough for Adrian to surf or not. Earlier that day they had a yelling match about Adrian not taking his meds and having a few beers on the back deck. Both of which were explicitly prohibited if he wanted a reasonable chance at recovery.

In desperation, Deran had thrown out the idea of heading to the beach, but that had only sparked yet another, ongoing argument. Adrian was supposed to be taking it easy, but every time they tried to surf Adrian went after the biggest and baddest waves, like he had something to prove. Everytime Adrian would paddle in with a look of triumph, and everytime Deran would be seething on the shore. He’d lost count the number of times he’d laid into Adrian, especially after nailing a complicated trick or dominating a massive wave, effectively wiping the joy from his boyfriend’s face. Deran felt like a special kind of twisted monster, experiencing rage, guilt and fear while crushing Adrian’s moments of happiness. Deran didn’t know how else to get the point across to Adrian that he _had_ to slow down, he _had_ to take it easy and he _had_ to let his body heal. _Why won't he get it through his thick skull? Doesn’t he know what it’d do to me if anything happened to him...again?_

Sitting in the sand, watching the love of his life storm off, Deran heard a familiar voice. “Hey there. Adrian looks like he’s getting some color back.”

Not in the mood for niceties, Deran turned to tell the guy to “fuck off”, then realized it was Dr. Kang, the surgeon who performed Adrian’s surgery months ago. Deran noticed Dr. Kang was shirtless, wearing flowered board shorts, and his ab muscles rippled when he sat down next to him. _Has he let his hair grow out too? Focus!_

Deran mumbled, “Oh hey. Hi. Yeah, he is.”

Kang chuckled, “How’s the surf today?”

Deran nodded toward the water, “Mainly ankle busters.” Shit. The small waves were probably ideal for Adrian who’d been aching to use his board but Deran couldn’t shake the feeling he was pushing himself too fast. Was it possible Adrian had a point that Deran was being too protective?

He turned his attention away from the water and back toward the surgeon. It still blew his mind that this guy could surf, too.

Kang grinned, “Sounds good. Hey, how’s the recovery going?”

Deran hedged, “Uh, ok, I guess.”

Kang pressed, “Yeah? That’s good. Sometimes it can be really hard on the patient and their relationship.”

Deran was fairly irritated that this guy was talking shit about _his_ Adrian and their relationship. He turned his head toward Kang and snorted, “The fuck do you know? We’re fine.”

Kang threw his hands up in a “surrender” gesture and replied, “No harm meant. It just seemed like you two were having a heated chat, and I wanted to check in. Didn’t mean to offend. I can leave you alone, if you want.”

“Sorry, man. Yeah, it’s okay with us. I think we’re both tired.”

Kang nodded his head a little, “Yeah, that can definitely happen. The sleep thing. It’s really a lot more work than people think, nursing a significant other back to health, and changing an entire lifestyle so quickly. It can be jarring, at best.”

To his horror, Deran’s eyes sort of watered. _The fuck is wrong with me?_ He turned his head back toward the surf, blinking rapidly, and clearing his throat.

Kang continued, “It’s so many moving parts and new things to remember. Also, it’s so much harder when the patient doesn’t follow the recovery instructions, which most don’t, by the way. Used to drive my mom crazy when my dad would just do whatever the hell he wanted. He’d go along like he didn’t just have a huge life threatening situation or a chronic medical condition to contend with. She was a nurse and could barely handle it. They’re actually the reason I became a doctor. I saw firsthand what happens with good medical care, but also the challenges of healing and managing the “new rules” for life afterward.”

Deran felt like Kang had somehow been spying on his thoughts. Still not looking at him, he said, “Huh. Yeah, I get that stuff. Uh, what’d you guys do? To get your dad on board?”

Kang laughed a little, “After yelling and threats didn’t work, mom made him go to therapy. They both did actually.” Kang laughed some more, “You should have seen that tiny blond woman manhandling her bullheaded Asian husband. He never stood a chance against her iron will.”

Deran turned his head toward Kang, “Did it work? Help him, I mean? Them?”

Kang nodded, “It did. They learned how to communicate in couples counseling and how to manage their stressors and fears in individual therapy. It wasn’t easy, but she was determined, and once he got his head out of his ass, he remembered that he’d do anything in the world to have more time with her.”

Deran scrunched up his face in thought. “Hmmm. It got better.”

Kang brushed the sand off his hands. “For sure, man. Therapy is hard, but it can also be really good. I’ve done it, and I’m glad I did.” He jutted his chin toward a blond guy down the beach, laying out towels and digging surfboards into the sand. “My husband and I have gone together too. It’s good info, the skills are helpful and it improves communication.”

Deran stared over at Kang’s husband.

Standing up, and using a clearly fake-warning tone, Kang said, “Don’t get any ideas. That Viking god is very much taken. I don’t know how this Korean nerd from Brentwood landed a man that looks like Alexander Skarsgard.” At Deran’s snort, Kang laughed, “Ok, maybe I _do_ know. I’ve got some skills.” He gave Deran a silly wink.

Deran laughed, “Being a doctor didn’t hurt either.”

Kang patted Deran’s shoulder, “No way. That man only wants me for my body.” He laughed, “Ok, I’m gonna run. Have a good one. You have my office number and email on Adrian’s discharge paperwork. Reach out if you have any questions.”

Deran nodded as Kang walked off. He thought about their conversation as he watched the waves roll in. _I’m sure we’re fine. We don’t need any of that counseling stuff._

The alarm on his phone went off, the banner reading _Remind Kai to open_. From the day Adrian had landed in the hospital she’d taken on the duty without complaint. Despite the established routine, and with the knowledge she would roll her eyes when she read it, Deran texted her the reminder.

Deran headed off toward the car, guessing that’s where Adrian ended up after the blow up. _It’s fine. We’re fine. I’ll just try harder and we’ll be back to normal in no time._

-0-

Adrian felt guilty. Deran had wanted them to both lay down and take a nap but Adrian was too restless for that. It hadn’t occurred to him until just now that lay down might’ve been code for sex.

In the not too distant past sex was just about the only topic on his mind when in Deran’s vicinity so it was really sad that it was barely an afterthought for him now. It had nothing to do with Deran--the guy was still the most gorgeous specimen Adrian had ever laid eyes on--and everything to do with Adrian’s admittedly shitty state of mind.

He rubbed over the ache in his chest that had nothing to do with the surgery and everything to do with how out of control he felt when it came to his life.

A small sound--maybe a whimper--caught his attention and he drifted toward the bedroom door. Deran had left it cracked open so it was easy for him to peek inside. Deran flipped from one side to the other, his pillow losing its battle for real estate as it flopped onto the hardwood floor. Adrian stepped into the doorway so he could pick up the pillow but Deran fixed the problem for himself by tugging Adrian’s pillow close. It was such a sweet gesture that Adrian thought about stretching out next to Deran, just so he could hold him, but he realized his boyfriend needed his rest.

Adrian backed out of the bedroom and headed for the bathroom. After splashing cool water on his face he grabbed a new towel out of the linen closet. Deran kept whisking away the one he used after showering despite it being clean in Adrian’s opinion. Their water bill must be outrageous with all of the laundry Deran kept doing, not that Adrian would know. Deran shielded him from the practical aspects of their life claiming he didn’t want to “cause a setback” to Adrian’s health but Adrian suspected Deran was just a control freak.

Speaking of control freaks, the linen closet had been completely reordered. The bath towels, hand towels and washcloths were all stacked neatly, and separated by color. When in the hell did Deran find the time to do that? And more importantly, why?

The object of his thoughts gave a strangled yelp and Adrian grabbed a towel, drying his face as he jogged for the bedroom. He nearly collided with Deran who stumbled out of the bedroom, eyes wide with panic. “Adrian!”

Adrian caught Deran in a hug and for once he didn’t worry about the pressure on his scarred chest. Deran clung to his shoulders, burying his face in Adrian’s neck, whispering over and over, “I thought I’d lost you...I thought I’d lost you…”

Not convinced Deran was even awake, Adrian guided him through to the living room where he settled him on the couch. Adrian sank into the cushion next to him, pulling him close. “I’m right here. You’re not going to lose me.”

It took a while to comfort Deran but he finally straightened up, pushing away from Adrian. “I’m okay.”

“Uh huh.” Adrian could feel his lips pursing; nothing said a person was okay like waking up from a nightmare mumbling _I thought I’d lost you_.

Adrian didn’t say anything further, letting Deran pull himself together. Breathing down the guy’s neck wasn’t going to get either one of them anywhere...a little something he wished Deran would figure out, too.

His attention wandered around the living room, seeing more evidence of Deran’s state of mind in the over-organization of the keychain hooks to the cubbies for shoes to the dish towel on the kitchen island folded to within an inch of its life. Not to mention the pervasive smell of bleach in the bathroom from Deran’s unending cleaning efforts or the lightly used laundry that was whisked away into the washing machine.

Deran had always been a neatnik in comparison to Adrian but all of these changes had happened in the last few weeks.

Something was going on with Deran.

Adrian shifted from the couch to the coffee table--a maneuver that typically made Deran grouse because tables weren’t meant for sitting on--but Deran was still inside of his head and didn’t notice. He patted Deran’s thigh to get his attention. “What’s going on with you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” That was the most Deran-like response Adrian had received since Deran stumbled out of the bedroom.

It was aggressive sounding, even petulant, but Adrian could work with it. “I’m talking about the nightmares for starters. Then there’s you turning into Felix Unger.”

Deran scowled. “The Odd Couple was such a fucking stupid show.”

That was a patented non-response although Adrian was amused Deran admitted to knowing The Odd Couple; he’d watched some episodes on Hulu and Deran had bitched about not even having been alive when the show was on yet he must’ve absorbed some of the basics.

“What’s going on? This isn’t like you.” Adrian persisted. Before his heart issue he’d had the best luck in getting through to Deran by being blunt.

Deran drew back as though Adrian had punched him; that was not what Adrian had been going for.

Before Adrian could apologize, or clarify, or say anything, Deran opened his mouth and let Adrian have it. “Because you having temper tantrums and breaking our shit or zoning out is normal behavior for you? No, fuck you. And let’s not forget how I can’t wear my red shirt without you quietly freaking out. You know the one I was wearing when you were in the hospital and I thought you were dying? Or didn’t you think I noticed how we can’t drive by the hospital without you finding an excuse to take another way even though that’s the shortest route for half the places we need to go?” Deran’s face was red and he was yanking on his short strands of hair.

Adrian opened his mouth to refute Deran’s words but snapped his mouth shut when he took a closer look at his boyfriend. He was too thin and his face was perpetually pulled into a frown and there were lavender shadows beneath his startling light blue eyes...Deran was falling apart in front of his eyes and he’d missed it.

Taking a deep breath, Adrian tried to calm the jittering in his heart. Nerves. Anxiety. Whatever he called it, it sucked. But this needed to be dealt with. “Okay, you’re right. We both have issues. Maybe now that they’re out in the open we can…” Adrian’s voice trailed off as Deran shook his head.

“I ran into Dr. Kang on the beach after you stomped off. He suggested therapy.” Deran said that with a straight face although Adrian kept waiting for the punchline.

Adrian bolted to his feet and paced the length of the living room. “You have fucking got to be kidding me. I don’t need therapy!”

Deran stood up, his hands out as if gentling a spooked animal. “We can’t go on like this, Adrian.”

 _Fuck._ Was Deran handing him an ultimatum? Did Adrian want to find out?

The discomfort in his chest changed and he eased himself onto a high backed stool at the kitchen island. Was he having a heart attack?

“Hey, no, don’t do this to me. Adrian?” Deran was in his space, pulling him close, rocking him.

“I’m okay.” Sometimes if he said the words, it actually helped. Kind of a twisted version of _fake it til you make it_.

Deran pushed hair out of Adrian’s face and peered down at him. “You’re really not. And neither am I.” It was a whispered confession.

Adrian couldn’t ignore Deran’s wishes when he was like this. It didn’t mean he had to like it though. “Fine, you want me to go to therapy? Then you’re going to.”

“That’s the plan.” Adrian was stunned by Deran’s pronouncement. He wasn’t sure he trusted Deran to follow through but for now, hugging Deran was the best therapy he could imagine.

-0-

They looked through the referrals from Dr. Kang, and ended up choosing Dr. Vaughn Fossett. Her bio seemed decent, and she was okay when Deran called to schedule the appointment. They had met with her twice, and it had gone well enough. She seemed fairly chill, with her tortoise shell glasses and dark curly hair. Plus she told them to call her Vaughn instead of Dr. Fossett, which was pretty cool. She has been oddly sarcastic, using humor in their sessions, which somehow worked for them. She’s also been pretty straightforward in challenging bullshit behavior and holding them each accountable. She’s said hippie dippy bullshit, like, “Be gentle with yourselves and one another” or “You’re both doing the best you can, and still need to keep trying.” It had been weird, but tolerable. Probably as good as any other therapist.

She had assigned them homework at last week’s session, and they were supposed to get it done before seeing her tomorrow.

They sat across from one another on the bed. The exercise was to silently hold eye contact for five minutes.

“Okay, let’s try this,” Deran said to Adrian.

“This is stupid,” Adrian snorted after only a few seconds.

“Come on, babe. Vaughn said this feels kind of weird, but is supposed to help.” Deran sighed, trying not to get irritated by Adrian’s lack of effort.

They try again. After a few seconds Adrian rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, this is dumb. Let’s just tell her we did it and it was great.” Adrian moved to get off the bed.

“Wait, what? You’re done?” 

“Yeah. I don’t see how this is gonna help. I don’t know about all this therapy stuff anyway,” Adrian mumbled, as he headed toward the door.

“Well it sure isn’t gonna work if you don’t try.” 

“Eh, well, whatever. I’m feeling antsy and want to go for a walk.” Adrian reached for the door. He stopped and turned, looking at Deran’s scowling face. His heart softened a bit. “Maybe we can try again later, okay? I’m just not feeling it right now.”

“Yeah, ok,” Deran muttered, as he laid down with his back toward Adrian. Deran’s eyes started to water as he heard the door to their bedroom snick closed, Adrian’s receding footsteps, and possibly any hope for their relationship to recover.

He lost track of how long he let himself wallow. Vaughn said to be gentle with himself but this was fucked up. Codys didn’t cry much but here he was, sniveling, like a wuss. His tears dried on his skin, feeling tacky. He needed to get up and splash water on his face. Do something. Anything.

The bedroom door opened without warning and Deran, startled, just about fell off of the bed.

“Hey, I’m sor--wait, are you crying?” Adrian sounded freaked out.

Deran dashed the back of his arm across his face and glared up at Adrian. He even crossed his arms for good measure.

It didn’t have any effect on his boyfriend who sat on the side of the bed, reaching out slowly, swiping his fingers against his damp cheek. “I came back to apologize. I am feeling antsy but that’s probably because this is uncomfortable for me. I suppose Vaughn would say that means it’s something that I need to work on.”

“Adrian, I’m not putting a gun to your head here. If you don’t want to go to therapy then you don’t fucking have to go.” Although if Adrian quit it would quite possibly break Deran in two.

He didn’t want to live without Adrian but he couldn’t really live with him, not the way things had been going between them.

Adrian dropped his hand and looked down. Deran caught his breath, waiting for the words that would break him.

“I think this staring thing is kind of stupid but if I have to stare at something for five minutes, it might as well be your grumpy face.” Adrian looked at Deran from beneath his eyelashes, a shy smile on his face.

That’s what Deran had missed. What he wanted back. The Adrian who went toe-to-toe with him but teased him instead of ranting.

Maybe things weren’t completely broken between them. Deran patted his chest lightly with his fist. The special connection he’d felt to Adrian before felt like it was slowly mending.

-0-

Adrian tried to adhere to Vaughn’s suggestions but he still had flare-ups. He’d like to think his mood swings were lessening in severity, and happening with less frequency, but everytime he got even just a little fed up with something Deran acted like a kicked puppy.

Like now. “All’s I’m saying is I’ve done a little research into the beta blockers and there’s some research that suggests it doesn’t help as much as they originally thought.” He knew his jaw was clenched but it was hard to relax it when Deran was practically cowering on the other side of the kitchen island.

“So you thought, hey, I’ll just fling all of my pills across the floor?” Deran scowled which was more like it; his boyfriend didn’t cower from anything. He hadn’t even been hit by a flying pill. Hell, if Adrian had known Deran was done with his shower he never would’ve even given in to his fit of temper and thrown the pillbox to begin with.

It wasn’t really an excuse though. Shaking his head, he looked down at the floor. At the mess he’d made. “No, I didn’t really think it through.”

Staring at the mix of white and light pink pills strewn across the tiled floor, Adrian’s anger disappeared. In its wake he was left feeling depressed.

Like he was a complete failure.

He knelt down carefully--sudden changes in position still could make him dizzy which was never going to change while he was on the Lopressor--and started sweeping the pills into a pile so he could scoop them up.

Deran didn’t say anything but out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. His boyfriend was on his hands and knees, helping pick up his mess.

Moisture flooded his eyes and Adrian had to blink rapidly to chase them away. The last thing he needed was to cry in front of Deran. He had a pattern of acting out and then crying and if he did that now Deran would know he was a failure.

A bigger failure.

Deran herded the pills onto a paper towel with his fingers before depositing everything on the island.

Adrian climbed to his feet, steadying himself on a stool as vertigo swept over him.

Usually Deran rushed forward to help him but this time he stood passively. Staring.

Scowling.

He was forever carping about Deran’s mothering him but now that he wasn’t, Adrian felt the loss acutely.

He really couldn’t make up his mind about what he wanted. Needed. Felt.

“I’m, uh, going to lay down for a while. I’ll clean up my mess when I get up.” Adrian didn’t wait to see if Deran gave a reaction.

He also didn’t expect there’d be a mess for him to clean up. Deran’s need to straighten things hadn’t abated yet.

Adrian wondered if Vaughn could really help them or if he’d screwed things up so badly their relationship would never recover.

-0-

They had seen Vaughn for a few weeks. She had pushed them hard to learn and use various techniques to improve communication and diffuse tense interactions between them. It actually seemed to be working, for the most part, but they still hadn’t really gotten to the heart of the matter.

They sat in Vaughn's office, on the couch, side by side.

Sighing heavily, Deran asked, “Why can’t you just follow the recovery guidelines?”

Genially, Adrian replied, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“I am. Just leave it.”

Deran barked, “What is your problem? Just take the damned pills! It’s not that hard”.

“This is stupid. I don’t need to--”

Deran interrupted, “You don’t need to, what? Why won’t you just try? Why don’t you care about-”

Adrian blurted out, “Because I’m afraid!”

Confused, Deran sarcastically responded, “What?! You’re afraid to take your medicine that keeps you alive?! Are you fucking kidding me? That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

Adrian yelled, “Fuck you!”

Deran yelled back, “Fuck you!”

Vaughn cleared her throat. “Okay, we’re not going to get anywhere if you both resort to shutting down and dirty fighting. Try again. Adrian, you mentioned feeling afraid. What are you afraid of?”

Adrian began to speak, directing his response to the therapist, but she redirected him, “Please turn so you two are facing one another. Tell him, not me.”

They both turned their bodies toward one another, looking equally stressed and overwhelmed. Deran scowled and bounced his leg, and Adrian desperately tried to avoid eye contact. Finally, he took a deep breath, and looked into Deran’s piercing blue eyes. In a small voice, Adrian said, “I’m afraid you won’t love me.”

Deran scowled, tone incredulous, “Are you crazy?”

Adrian‘s brows furrowed and the edges of his eyes started to water, “That...that you’ll see me as weak.”

Deran, heartbroken by what he’s heard and seen, “ _What?!_ No. Never! _That’s_ why? That’s why you haven’t been taking better care of yourself? Babe, no way.”

Adrian explained,”It won’t ever be like it was before. I might always have limitations and not be able to do all of the things we used to do. There will need to be more planning ahead of time for activities and trips. I might have to take meds for the rest of my life."

Deran, reached over to hold both of Adrian's hands, and held his gaze, “I don’t care, Adrian. All I want is you. Whatever that means or looks like.”

Tears falling, Adrian replied softly, “You say that now, but-”

Deran suddenly pulled back and yelled, “Shut up, shut up, shut up!!!!”

Vaughn interjected, “Hold on. Deran, what is it you don’t want to hear?”

Clearly upset, Deran told Adrian, “Stop saying that! Don’t say that shit to me!”

Vaughn replied, “Nope. Use the ‘I feel’ statements rather than telling Adrian what to do.”

Deran, rolled his eyes, took a big breath, and tried, “Fuck! Fine. I feel angry when you say that.”

Adrian remained quiet.

Their therapist asked, “Deran, what’s under that anger? What are the other emotions?”

Deran snorted, “I don’t know...more anger?”

With a slight smile, Vaughn encouraged, “Dig deeper.”

Deran groaned, “Fuuuck! I really fucking hate all this.”

Everyone was silent. Deran looked up at Adrian, and breathed out, “Hurt, I guess. I feel hurt.”

As Deran and Adrian stared at one another, the therapist asked, “What feels hurtful to you Deran?”

Eyes stinging, Deran croaked out, “That...that you don’t trust me. That you don’t believe in me. Believe in us.” Fat tears rolled down his cheeks.

Adrian moved closer to Deran on the couch, and grabbed his hands. “I do-”

Deran absently wiped at his tears, “Doesn’t seem like it if you think I’d bail.”

Adrian insisted, “That’s not what I meant. Not at all.”

Deran shook his head a little, “Well that’s what I hear.”

Vaughn asked in a quiet tone, “Can you tell Adrian more about what you _hear_?”

Deran whispered, “That...that...I won’t be enough. That I’m not enough…”

Adrian’s face was in shock, he immediately crushed Deran to him in a deep embrace. Eyes closed, he reassured, “You _are_ enough. Always enough. _Always_.”

Deran tried, “But-”

Adrian pulled back and looked into Deran’s eyes, “No, you have to believe me.”

In a broken voice, Deran responded, “I won’t be ok without you. If you don’t take care of yourself and I lose you...I...I’d never be ok.”

Blue holding watery blue, Adrian framed Deran’s face with his hands, “Fuck. Babe. I’m _so_ sorry. I didn’t realize...I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I was just so mad at myself and then I felt weak and pathetic.”

Deran’s hands rested on Adrian’s thighs, “You’re not. Not any of those things. You’re everything.”

They gave a quick kiss, and held each other tight for long moments. When they pulled apart, they both faced Vaughn. She reflected and validated their hard work, congratulating them on their openness and honesty, their immense progress. She asked, “What do you want the other to know?”

Sitting side by side, fingers laced, Deran looked over at Adrian, “I want you to know that I love you and I’m here. I want you. No matter what.”

Adrian smiled his lopsided smile, “I want you to know that I love you and I’ll do better. Try harder. For me...for us.”

Grinning, Vaughn asked, “And what’s something you appreciate about the other person?”

Adrian responded, “Your commitment and how you make me laugh.”

Deran replied, “Your strength and how much fun we have together.”

Their therapist asked one last question, “And how do you both feel?”

Adrian nodded and said, “Better, a lot better.”

Deran sighed, “Relieved.”

And fucking exhausted. All of this feelings shit was giving him a headache, too.

“All right, gentleman. You’ve made some solid progress today but let’s build on it some more. Here’s what I want you do before next week’s session…”

Deran hoped Adrian was paying attention because his brain was fried. At last Vaughn stopped talking and they were on their feet and heading for the door. Their therapist’s eyes were bright behind her trademark tortoise shell glasses and a gentle smile hovered on her face.

Adrian grabbed his hand and towed him to the exit. Deran happily followed.

-0-

Adrian moved the pillows from their bed in preparation for their homework.

They’d both started individual therapy on Vaughn’s suggestion to work on their own goals and move past “stuck points” or as Deran liked to call them “sucky points.” Adrian needed to learn to trust in his body again and Deran needed to loosen up when it came to his control issues. So far things were getting better but Vaughn had stressed the importance of putting effort into their assignments.

“Hey, Deran, it’s time!” Adrian called, knowing Deran would hear his bellow from the kitchen.

It took a moment but Deran’s footfalls approached. “Time for what?” His bright eyes lit up when he noticed the bed had been cleared.

“Um, first things first. The gazing exercise.” Adrian sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him.

Deran’s mouth turned down but his eyes sparkled, letting Adrian know he was agreeable.

They turned toward each other, clasping hands. “Wait, let me set the alarm for five minutes.”

“I thought you said this exercise was stupid?” Deran needled him but still hung on to the hand not fiddling with his phone.

“I also said I didn’t mind staring at your grumpy face. Now start.” Adrian pushed the phone aside and grabbed Deran’s other hand.

Deran lifted an eyebrow, in challenge or in fun, and Adrian realized this was the first time in what felt like forever that his boyfriend was fully relaxed. Of course when Deran lifted his other eyebrow and waggled them both, like Groucho Marx, Adrian couldn’t hold the gaze anymore.

“You fucker,” he giggled before launching himself forward, giggles turning into full-blown laughter. It felt so good to laugh.

His antics were met by snort-laughs but Deran caught him right before their chests made contact. “I won.”

“Uh, it wasn’t a competition. What are we gonna tell Vaughn? The dog ate our homework?” Adrian pushed forward until he flattened Deran backward, his body smothering him.

Deran flipped them over so he was on top, grinding down.

Adrian’s cock throbbed insistently. He’d taken Deran with him to his last cardiologist appointment and the doctor had agreed to cut back on the beta blocker. Adrian had more energy and his sex drive had roared back with a vengeance.

Best of all, Deran knew Adrian was complying with his meds and had backed off the mother-henning routine.

Deran cleared his throat. “What happened to the gazing exercise?”

They could give in to their bodies now but delaying that for five minutes didn’t seem like a hardship. Who wouldn’t want to stare into Deran’s eyes?

Sex was great but there was so much more to their relationship. He’d really underestimated Deran’s commitment to him when this had all started but that had changed. He trusted his body, and heart, to the man laying on top of him.

Adrian rocked his body and was able to dislodge Deran from his chest. He rolled to his side and Deran did the same so they faced each other, heads propped on hands.

Staring.

His boyfriend had the lightest blue eyes Adrian had ever seen. They were also the most gorgeous. He probably could lose himself in them for hours.

Without breaking eye contact, Deran brushed a strand of hair inching its way across Adrian’s forehead and toward an eye. Deran’s pupils had expanded, chewing up the pretty blue, and it made Adrian’s groin tighten in response.

His phone bleated, startling them both, signalling the end of the exercise.

Deran reached back and the noise stopped.

He turned back, leaning over, eye to eye and lip to lip. “Time for a different kind of exercise?” Adrian shivered in response to Deran’s rumbly voice.

He parted his lips to answer but Deran knew him well, slipping his moist tongue into Adrian’s mouth, coaxing out a moan.

He wondered how many times this therapy exercise ended in hot sex and figured he’d ask Vaughn tomorrow.

That was the last coherent thought he had as thoughts of everything except Deran fled his brain.

Finis

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read.


End file.
